


home isn't a place (it is a person. and we are finally home.)

by koroshiyas (lucitae)



Series: PD101 MCU AU [2]
Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Marvel Cinematic Universe Fusion, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, lapslock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 10:14:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11895567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucitae/pseuds/koroshiyas
Summary: after minhyun surrenders the shield and frees his friends, he retires.





	home isn't a place (it is a person. and we are finally home.)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [landfill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/landfill/gifts).



> i promised, my dear kouhai, that i would get you back for this. and now i have. you have taken all the words with you, my better half, so i apologize for this sorry sequel.
> 
> this roughly picks up where the first fic left off, meaning i will be covering captain america: civil war so spoiler alerts(?) if you haven't watched. this probably isn't teen & up nor graphic depictions of violence but i'd rather be safe than sorry.
> 
> the title was taken from this [quote](https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/324426-for-the-two-of-us-home-isn-t-a-place-it), which feels representative of stucky (and by extension, onghwang).

"are you sure about this?" jaehwan asks and there's a sense of deja vu that makes the corner of minhyun's lip curl into half a smile.

"do you know that they never changed my birth certificate? i'm at least a decade past the retirement age," minhyun jokes, tone light.

"they need you," jaehwan states firmly, voice quieter than before.

minhyun shakes his head. "they don't need me," he says, gently before placing a hand on jaehwan's shoulder, gripping it once before giving it a pat and scooting past jaehwan. "they need cap."

 

 

►

 

 

they find a small, cramped, one room apartment in a city too bustling and desensitized to recognize former somebody's. the mattress is lumpy, wallpapers peeling, and the two chairs that serve the dining table have legs that have seen better days before ending up as some puppy's chew toy.

minhyun offers a smile after surveying the apartment. seongwoo shifts uneasily as he peels back the faded drapes and peers out the window. it's far too late to find a new place with the contract signed and down payment turned in, but minhyun does it for formalities sake. after all, it's always the little things bring comfort in life.

but he notices the worry etched in the furrow of seongwoo's brows, the set jaw, the lips stretched in a thin straight line that represents hesitation and disapproval. so minhyun firmly grips seongwoo's shoulder and gives him a smile.

 

 

> ( like before exiting into the frigid scene of the home of the five super soldiers.
> 
> like that old bar where he was invisible to everyone but you.
> 
> like in the back alley where he saves you, once again, and gives you that same pat your are giving him now.
> 
> like the time before that.
> 
> and the time before that.
> 
> and the time before that. )

 

 

"i'm with you 'til the end of the line."

there's still hesitation and disapproval but at least there's less tension held in the shoulders and he offers a small smile.

it's enough for now.

 

 

◀◀

 

 

"are you sure about this?" minhyun asks.

seongwoo's expression is sullen despite the smile, determined. "i can't trust my own mind," he confesses.

minhyun's grip digs into seongwoo's skin, but even if he feels it, he doesn't show it. minhyun knows this is unfair of him, knows it is cruel of him, but he can't lose ong to the ice again ( or anything else ) so he says, like a plea: "but i'm here."

he doesn't think it'll make a difference but it's better than doing nothing. minhyun thinks of the three years and how ong almost had something ( and how he can work with that something ) so he says it again: "i'm here. so please..." something in minhyun cracks.

 

 

> ( it made all the difference. )

 

 

"you're an asshole, hwang," seongwoo says later as an observation he makes.

"yeah, well," minhyun agrees as seongwoo's words leave a smile on his face, "i take after a certain friend of mine. you wouldn't know him."

his smile grows wider with the satisfaction of seeing a trace of a smile on his friend's face.

 

►►

 

for the third day in a row, minhyun wakes up to his own personal nightmare: seongwoo is at his side, curled, sweat matting his hair to his face, stuck in his own mind and reliving something minhyun can't even begin to guess at. there's nothing minhyun can do but watch.

 

 

> ( he tried shaking seongwoo out of it the first night but earned a hand to his neck and listened to the faint whir of the new mechanical arm as he was almost strangled to death.
> 
> "ong," minhyun gasps, voice raspy, struggling against the hand. "ong. it's me."
> 
> when seongwoo comes to, the guilt remaining in his eyes suffocates minhyun more than the arm that left behind red imprints on his neck.
> 
> seongwoo apologizes later, unable to meet his eyes, unable to be coaxed back to bed.
> 
> "there are worse ways to die," minhyun jokes, rubbing at his neck and earns a glare he deserves. )

 

 

nights like this makes minhyun wonder if he made the right choice, if it would have been better if he let ong go under the ice again until they found some cure.

minhyun waits until morning, torn.

 

 

◀◀

 

 

regardless of whether or not it's pre soviet ong or post soviet ong, he saves minhyun's ass each time, always getting involved and finishing a fight minhyun has started. even now, his mechanical arm digs into the core of the iron man suit.

minhyun struggles to his feet only to watch ong get knocked off his.  
( an arm lost, again, because of him. )

minhyun charges.

 

 

the tables start to turn. a shield knocked out of reach. a blow after blow received and minhyun grits his teeth and keeps going because this is what he's always done. but even when he's on his knees, at the mercy of a friend turned foe, he'll still try to protect what he can.

"he's my friend," minhyun says between a standing iron man and a presumably unconscious winter soldier.

"so was i."

( minhyun doesn't have the breath to point out the difference so he takes two more blows instead. )

 

 

"stand down. final warning."

minhyun gets to his feet anyway, despite how unsteady he is. "i could do this all day."

( and again ) regardless of whether or not it's pre soviet ong or post soviet ong, he saves minhyun's ass each time, always getting involved and finishing a fight minhyun has started. his only good arm pulling an iron leg, to keep minhyun from being blasted at point blank, it earns him a kick in the face and enough time for cap to retaliate. 

 

 

( he's almost consumed by rage. and a drop of vengeance. almost. )

minhyun drives the shield into the core of the suit instead.

 

 

shield on one arm, ong on the other: minhyun recalls a time when it was impossible to have been the one to lend a shoulder for his best friend. not that he would have wanted it to be returned in a circumstance like this.

the reminiscence ends with "that shield doesn't belong to you."

"you don't deserve it."

( he's probably right. )

"my father made that shield."

 

 

at the end of the day, there are more important things to hold onto ; minhyun drops the shield.

( he doesn't turn back. )

 

 

►►

 

 

the nightmares don't get better. minhyun doubts they ever will. most of the time he finds seongwoo sitting up on his side of the bed, forehead resting against a knee cap, circles under his eyes. minhyun reaches for him then, hand gentle but firm against the knee, and smiles upon the recognition that settles into seongwoo's eyes. seongwoo returns it but the smile doesn't last ( it never does ).

minhyun loses track of the nights seongwoo spends awake or in fitful sleep.

the nightmares never seem to end.

 

 

minhyun reaches out one night, fingers pliant against seongwoo's shoulder, and decides to take the lack of a life threat as a sign.

 

 

the nightmares never seem to end, so he holds seongwoo until it passes.

 

 

they lie awake, one dawn, after a particular bad bout. seongwoo is drenched in cold sweat and stares emptily at the space in front of him. "tell me something," he says, "anything."

minhyun stares at the back of seongwoo's head. "remember how my mom would used to cut my hair?" minhyun starts. there's a noise of agreement from seongwoo before minhyun continues: "and i used to complain that i didn't need one so she could use that extra time she took out of her day to sleep a bit more." minhyun smiles at the memory. "she would retort that a change of hairstyle would change the mood and refused to let me off."

"are you offering to cut mine for me?" seongwoo says with a tone remnant of a distant past. minhyun can almost see him smirking as he says it.

"will you let me?" minhyun asks, gentle, like the arm draped across seongwoo's waist. a nod follows. minhyun's smile turns fond.

 

 

"have you done this before?" seongwoo asks, wary, trying not to fidget in the chair as minhyun stands behind him: a pair of scissors in one hand and a lock of seongwoo's hair in the other.

minhyun flashes him a smile. "there's a first for everything. besides, i learn from the best."

"by observation," seongwoo retorts. but before he can say anything else, minhyun snips off a lock to push them past a point of no return.

 _jerk_ , seongwoo mutters under his breath as he turns forward and minhyun flashes him a smile through the mirror.

more locks grace the floor, spreading out around seongwoo's feet. he stares straight ahead. it takes a few more snips before he speaks again, barely audible: "i don't think a haircut will change anything."

 _you are still ong seongwoo_ , lingers on the tip of minhyun's tongue. but it sounds too pretentious, even to his own ears, so he stays silent. the loudest sound in the room belongs to the snip of scissors.

 

 

that night, when the nightmares come, they somehow manage to sleep through it.

 

 

◀◀

 

 

"what's going to happen to your friends?"

minhyun stares straight ahead unable to bear seeing the downcast look on ong's face, the guilt weighing down his shoulders.

"whatever it is..." minhyun shakes his head, choosing to focus on what's ahead of them instead of fretting about the consequences his team would face, "i'll deal with it."

"i don't know if i'm worth all this to you."

minhyun's chest tightens, wound up like the tension in his jaw and the fist gripped around the steering wheel. how can he convey how much seongwoo is worth to him?

it's near impossible, so he doesn't. he turns, trying to meet seongwoo's eyes but the limitation of the seat constricts him ( not unlike the conventional boundaries they've always been contained by ).

"what you did all those years, it wasn't you," he begins. "you didn't have a choice."

"i know..." there's a pause. "but i did it."

 

 

►►

 

 

seongwoo flashes the vendor a smile minhyun can only describe as charming while asking the price of plums in a foreign tongue. minhyun still has much to learn but he's too focused on the bionic arm that's expertly testing the ripeness of the fruit, as if it had done it a thousand times.  _and perhaps he has_ , minhyun thinks, watching how seongwoo thanks the vendor, but still careful enough to not let anyone directly meet his eyes obscured by the bill of his cap.

he thinks of the three years between plunging into river below and thumbing through a meticulous notebook. of how ong laid low. of how ong might have lead his life. of how different they are with the years between them.

( and of the seventy year gap where minhyun was under ice. )

they aren't the same ong seongwoo and hwang minhyun in that back alley seven decades ago. he never expected them to be.

minhyun waits patiently as seongwoo haggles with the vendor and mirrors seongwoo's smile when he emerges victorious.

he's fine with this.

no.

perhaps it is better off this way.

 

 

minhyun leans in to take a peek at the bag and perhaps guess at the number of plums seongwoo has purchased. "you know," he begins, voice teasing, "i thought i saw plum pie recipe in that notebook of yours."

seongwoo remains expressionless spare for a subtle twitch of the lips that minhyun would have missed if he wasn't paying attention ( but he always does ).

minhyun's expression turns fond. "i can't wait to try it."

 

 

◀◀

 

 

"for the record," agent kim says upon approaching, "this is what making things worse looks like."

minhyun looks straight ahead and states: "he's alive."

( and that's all that matters. )

 

 

►►

 

 

minhyun comes home to an apartment with its curtains shut ( as always ), music drifting from the old radio they managed to find ( this is new ), and seongwoo staring absentmindedly at the stained wallpaper. he halts for a second, frozen in mid air, a hand steadying himself on the wall as he attempts to take off his shoes. his face scrunches in confusion before chuckling. "what year are we in?" he laughs, shaking his head.

seongwoo looks at him from the worn sofa he's seated upon, lips twisting into a semblance of a smile, "it's clearly 1941."

minhyun smiles and begins to reminisce. "i remember watching you dance to this song," minhyun mentions, "when this song first came out."

seongwoo stays quiet as he tracks minhyun's movements. minhyun takes the newly purchased groceries to the kitchen, humming the melody under his breath.

"did you ever get your dance?" seongwoo asks, after minhyun has sorted everything. minhyun shakes his head.

"you know," seongwoo begins and for the first time minhyun thinks seongwoo sounds uncertain, "we've always had our dance partners." minhyun throws him a knowing look. " _i_ had my fair share of dance partners but we never..." seongwoo falters at minhyun's smile and extended hand ( a comforting  _i know_ ).

seongwoo takes it.

minhyun places his hand on seongwoo's waist. "you're leading?" seongwoo asks, scandalized. minhyun beams.

he leans in close, close enough for seongwoo to feel minhyun's breath against the shell of his ear. "you taught me everything i know."

minhyun takes a step back and seongwoo follows.

 

 

( two boys laugh, mimicking what they had just saw earlier, breathless as they spin in circles.  
  hand positions are all wrong but they don't notice, nor do they care.  
  they don't learn until a few years later: one through experience, the other through observation. )

 

 

◀◀

 

 

minhyun surveys the apartment: notes the newspapers taped to windows where curtains are missing, cracks in the walls, the area with the remnants of a faded floral wallpaper, the simple mattress on the floor. traces of living but ong is no where to be found.

there's a small notebook on top of the fridge, curiosity prompts him to pick it up. he opens the pages randomly until he finds a printed copy of an old propaganda illustration. falcon says something via the comm. "understood," minhyun confirms even though not much of it had registered, too absorbed in the little booklet, trying to extract meaning. ( trying to fight that flutter of hope. ) but before he can read further, he notices a presence behind him.

minhyun turns around and gives the familiar face a once over. "do you know me?"

"you're minhyun," the man says, tone factual, before inclining his head at the book and continuing: "i read about you at the museum."

 _they've set the perimeter_ , comes jaehwan's voice through his earpiece.

minhyun sighs and takes another look at the notebook in his hand before setting it on the table. "i know you're nervous," knows more than that really. "and you have plenty of reason to be," he continues. "but you're lying."

"i wasn't in vienna," ong says, "i don't do that anymore."

_they're entering the building._

"well," minhyun takes a glance at the window before taking a few steps to close the distance between him and seongwoo. he's on edge and wary of the circumstances, exhausted of chasing in circles and running into dead ends. so he turns confrontational. ( has to in order to protect. ) "the people who think you did are coming here now. and they're not planning on taking you alive."

"that's smart," seongwoo concludes with the finality of a man who's long accepted his fate, "good strategy."

_they're on the roof. i'm compromised._

minhyun stays immovable as he watches ong gear himself up for a fight.

"this doesn't have to end in a fight, ong."

"it always ends in a fight."

( the eyes of an exhaustion, exasperation, of a dead man who just wants peace. )

_5 seconds._

"you pulled me from the river. why?"

ong looks up at him, jaw set. "i don't know."

( minhyun thinks he sees a trace of his old ong somewhere in those eyes. )

_3 seconds!_

so he insists, "yes, you do."

_breach! breach! breach!_

 

 

"ong, stop!" minhyun grabs seongwoo's arm as seongwoo twists out of it. "you're going to kill someone."

minhyun feels the floor against his back as seongwoo throws him to the ground. and for a split second he thinks that maybe that someone is him.

"i'm not going to kill anyone."

 

 

►►

 

 

rain pours in a frenzy as if on a mission to clean the asphalt roads. mortals who dare venture into the streets are met with winds that have blown umbrellas inside out. 

minhyun takes a look at the condition outside, sighs, and returns with a dvd case in hand.

"i figured," he begins, careful, "that we could catch up with the seventy years of pop culture we missed."

seongwoo makes some space for him on the couch.

"courtesy of jaehwan," minhyun adds, out of obligation, as he inserts the disk into the player.

 

 

at some point, minhyun realizes they've come too far to return to what they used to be. so instead of drowning in nostalgia, he's decided to create new memories — shared between two souls ( that feels closer to one ).

he scoots closer. 

 

 

◀◀

 

 

 _... i know how much ong means to you_ , minhyun hears from the other end of the line, a voice quieted and sincere, _i_   _really do..._ ( but she doesn't. )  _stay home_ , voice firm this time. _you'll only make this worse for all of us_. _please_.

"are you saying you'll arrest me?" minhyun asks.

 _no..._   _what_ , in disbelief, _someone will. if you interfere. that's how it works now._

"if he's this far gone," minhyun says while looking in the direction of agent kim, "i should be the one to bring him in."

 _why?_ she asks. they always do. minhyun has a list of reasons but no one will ever understand.

so instead, he says: "cause i'm the one least likely to die trying."

 

 

►►

 

 

"which museum did you read about me in?" minhyun asks, watching seongwoo's face for any changes but the man is unreadable. ( he thinks it is a trick of the light when he sees a tinge of red. )

"why are you asking?" seongwoo questions, cautious.

minhyun shrugs, allowing his gaze to trace over the map of stars scattered across seongwoo's face. "wanted to see it one last time before they took it down. we are technically war criminals."

seongwoo almost laughs at that.

"how does next tuesday sound?"

 

 

◀◀ x 4

 

 

the bar is desolate, empty without a soul and dark, as if it too could feel the loss of ong. the memories of loud cheers and warm, yellow lights seems to be a figment of the imagination. there's a bottle of liquor before him, half-empty, but minhyun can't seem to get drunk.

agent zhou approaches, silent, observant.

"i got in over my head," minhyun begins as his thumb traces the rim of the glass, the drink still bitter against his tongue. he continues: "ong waded in and pulled me out, just like he always did." his lips twist. "and the one time he needed me to return the favor," his voice fractures, "i couldn't."

her eyes are filled with concern, kindness, and sympathy perhaps. "i doubt it's that simple," she says.

but it is.

"all i had to do is hold on."

 

****ll**  
**

 

 

and this time he has.

**Author's Note:**

> the original title was going to be "never too late to be who you might have been" based after [this quote](https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/619-it-is-never-too-late-to-be-what-you-might) in order to match themes with the first fic in this series. except it is, for them. but that's not necessarily a bad thing.
> 
> the fic really took off after i read [this post](http://assetandmission.tumblr.com/post/147160824100/fearlessinger-guernica-itsagentromanoff-til-the). there were so many things i was uncertain of that hindered the creation of this fic. how do i combine stucky and onghwang and make both pairings believable without being one more than the other? but, in the end, this is a stucky au, onghwang fic and that made all the difference.
> 
> the second to last scene is actually the [original script](http://assetandmission.tumblr.com/post/142966151283/dailyxmarvel-script-vs-movie) of captain america: the first avenger where steve mourns after bucky falls to his "death". why it got changed in the movie? no one will ever know.
> 
> i apologize for the formatting. it is purely experimental with flashbacks and current events interspersed. one flows backward and the other flows forward but hopefully it still makes sense. at first they were going to be more interconnected i miscalculated some scenes and it became this instead. in addition, a lot of time passes in between each present scene making it both easier and a headache to work with.
> 
> the characterizations, in my opinion, are still a mess but i hope, dear reader who has made it to the end, you enjoyed it despite how it lacked in many ways.
> 
> as always, kudos and comments much appreciated!


End file.
